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W, F. & G. !!• BALDWIN, Proprieters.
=1^
T w r i S - ^ 1 * 2 | F e i f ^ u m i i .
VOL. I. LITCHFIELD,. (COT.) JpBRUiLRY 24, 1848. .N0.85
I t a n S l i i l l L l L A ^ V
Fr»m the FhUadelphia Sbtiurdof Courier.
EETUBNIN6 THB CALL;
. O r , « T l a l t t o C a f t o v d M . *
B7 TH.IL. BSS1TGI.X.
p t f friwid, Henri Doeot, md his wtte, w m
l an u d tor w di «dier. B«th wars band.
mtmm, m k and happy, mad it owMtAiy m
Wang* that they ■ hauld Kre Part* so cnttrriy^
«la«C a i they were, fron the world. 1 wmin.
tinutely aequaiated with Ducot, and kneir<ll&t be
lia i Moothor friend becide myseU; and Estelie«p>
Itoaved to cxtBt only with her husband. Yet it
iMUat hava been theii^ own choice, for they were
warm ’affections and a«ery quality
MMUpdty induces friendshfp; but this fact
only iuUed M the mystery which was arouad them
None IcBSW the AmUy o t EstsU* Daeat, yet tbe
marriage coutd hardly ha«« been a menaUinnce, for
Ihen Henri was a poor studsnt a t law and a straa-jger
in Paris. But mboc that time, he fa<||| gained n
latge practice as an advocate, and now ii«ed in ele­gant,
‘CIkh;^ s<diury style.
Daoot was peealiarly fitted ibr his profi»ston,and
still more ^ the u n ^ la r coursa of ad««nture, thro'
which h wiU appear be ^nssed. His mind was
close aad graspin'. He generalised i^nh rapidity
and eorrectness, but chieiy excetted in a ifiinale
aoal,vsis of details: somenotrs almost Ttainfiil. H ir
profession' was well chosen, but he would hare
made « better chief of police. Ir. body, be was
museiiiar, compact, aiid with the rare combi-ifitina
o f great strength and a graceful form. Es*
tdle—bat she can be better described hereafter in
his owa words.
One e«eiM<^g—I recollect it weM, for on that day
Cartouche, th?lamoas robber, had been executed—
1 strolled inta Henri's room tu usual. He was
aViae, arid in melan choly mood. For the first
. timeainee our ao^uaintnnce, he (ail^ to eni^ch tlie
conversation in hlfc own peculiar and moraJizinj
way. Short answers were .ill that could l>e di-awn
from him, until I mentioned tlie exeiuiion I had
just wiuiessed. His courttenance instantly assu-tned
an appearance of anguish, and lie enquired, in
St saddened tone, how Cartouche had borne himself
^through the awful scetie.
*'Wdl aiid nobly,’ I replied. ‘ He mnde a short
address to tlie ffiectators in defence of his coursc of
Jift, ^ n t i i ig out somewliat proudly, as it seemed
>o me, wherein be dififered from others of lus pro-
Cwon, and concluding with the singular remark,
that but two had ever existed worthy tn be ranked
with himself, and that the woHd shoold congratu­late
itself on the existence of three such spirits as
Robin Hood^ Du Yal, and Cartouche. And then
lie died. You s e ^ strangely interested—I know
that a t the trial you appeared as his advocate but
rertaiuly you must have powerfully identified your­self
with your client, as the legal ^ i o n runs, to
i td sud) sympathy fur a mere robber. Yet, I must
confess, Cartouche has added refinement to his pro-fessbn.’
Ducot made no r eply, and finding that 1 could
not banish his gloomy mood, I rose to take my
leave^ He started up and accompanied me to the
dftor.
‘ You must excuse my silence to-nif^ht, my friend.
Te^morrow we le.<«ve ^aris,perhaf« fttrevar. vViCjdl
Itew in tbe evening, and yo^stiall know xny. rea-aons.
Adieu.'
The next night .1 called, and received the pro-taissd
commmucation. His letter ran thus:—
‘ You have pntbably noticed, my iriend, some
aingularity in my retired manner of life, and,^(e-
. lieve«M, the delicacy of your silence on the subject
is one of 'the many reasons why I am happy in
lAeriAing-bor firiendship. But the time has now
come whan a full eqilanation is doc to you, and
this can bs best given in souse passages of my life
a tP t f b .
* Aboat three years since, I came here from Com-peigne,
just twenty-one, fun of buoyant spirits, my
own master, for my parents were long since dead,
and with sixty tliousand fra nr* in my pocket Like
all other yoong men, I came with but one determ­inate
plan—^happiness—and with a indeterm­inate
idlea of that. However, I thought that before
asy fortune was gone I should probably find some
occupa'tion for life, and in the meantime my busi­ness
idMNdd be to seule the qoestion, whether hap-
|aaess and pleasure were tbe sam& Accordii^ly
«B the m y first evening of m j Arrival, I went to
th e Theatre Eoyale. '
Tbe aeene was entirely new to me, aad I set-ded
myaeir-dawn to ijsste the expected <telight. Al­most
at tbe saaie hwtant, a lady ontered tfaeoppo-
«he faoK,aBd aiy efiil, whi«h at ir s t glanced to­wards
her unonnadmuift wars anon flntened in
alnrtradoa. Evea now, f can aearoely recall that
asoment wiflsMH a tumnAt of feeling. At first, my
agitation was such diat I dOuld hardly see her dis*
tinct!ly» but this sensation soon snbiiided or rather
Tdafe ittio ft es3m, fall tide of overpoweriitg sttength.
'f k it was itfl her mere beauty, th o i^ slie was
1^ , rflmfttt' iMokieatin^y beautiful, biH an ex-
1 of soul, looking from’^her coun-
4fae appe&red aosie two or three years
yiB«qperiliM il^sdi; I, who pritte tnyself
liwewbatoTa pliysiojnomi«t, a w that some p s a ­lte
r o w e i t sorrow had addbd yeaiw tty ^ r nrind,
What it was, an my sWH c<mMI m* coirt«*e untH
glance. She «aw at ^ Aai my eye*
M l -bM « moment*Ty^ expreasfon, an i hef's « l * r
« nmaettt, hoA then rfie raised them fiA to mine
«n# Mf^eyed me so proudly and calmly, that I in
torn was abadiai fiir an instant But I%e-
IbnwilMr acnuiny* tbs Kbowled^ at onceenleted
aay aHodr tfiat wy were- aacuratidy r a a d ^ aadr
diantclar, add a digiit, iadafiaaUs diange'
in her showed tliat she at t ^ Terymmnern was
thinUng precisely the same iiting. This could hot
last loag, and «m she withdrew her eyes with a feint
involuntary bending of tlie head, my vanity cpn-stmed
it in |a a tcdmi of satisfied approval. That
little slircumsUncs formed my opinion of the etmst
of ^ sing:Hlar expression upon her dbuntenance.
The act was in v o lu n ta ry o n e lode at her innn-c
^ fece settled that—and it most have been in ac-cordanca
with the suae feeling which prompted
her to liisreigard etiquette in maetif^ the gaze of a
' stranger |o deliberately. There was no aodden in>
d ^ a tio n , such as one might feel toward a rude
gazer, but a iqMlling:, instantly surceeded. by tlie
mute and lofiy enquiry,—who and wliat is he,dar-ing
to pry into tlie knowledge of^iy sorrow ? But
it was not the usual sense of grief, for that is still
and vetiring:—it was tliaaorrow of shame,—uot fur
hersdf, or she would shrink, but tin consciousness
of soms degradation in her unavoidable manner of
life, diat she wmild wiah to feel alone, and th««fore
hold^hersslf .akwf/rora all. Yet being akme, there
was a ntcessary yearning for sympathy, and an
unconscious desire to test every one who appeared
to be interested in her. This conclusion came in*
stantaiieously, and banishing every thought of what
could be her peculiar condition as something be­yond
conjecture, I contented myself with drinking
in deeply admiration, with its natural result—^love.
For love succeeds the otiier as truly as the delicious
intoxicating wine follows the light and momentary
foam. Only once I looked towards the stnge, and
when my eyes returned home, she was gone.
* I wandered forth, gloomy and dejected^ My In­tention
had been to sup at a cafe aAer the play, and
thitlier my stepa-unconsciously turned. The L-oom
was filled with the usual miscellaneous company,
but I heeded them not. I sat down in a retired
cqrner and discussed ray wine and thought alone.
Shortly afterwards, a stranger entered and sat by
my side, whose appearance instantly drew my
whole attention towards him. Yet there was^ no­thing
strikingly singukir in any of his features^lbut
their combination at («ce made him an (^ject of
curious study. His frame was slight, yet perfectly
and powerfully made; his lips were thinly and
sharply cut, but the chief expression of the man lay
in wlMit be termed his polite eye. Had he been
twenty y«‘ars older, I should have thought him a
di^tnguisbed soldier, clad , in citiBea dress, and po
Itfdied by long interoourae with the workl; but he
seemed sca«:ely thirty, and of an ease-loving dis-
‘position, which would hardly betake itself to arms.
I commenced the conversation by handing him my
paper with a word or two on the topic of the day.
There is an account, Monsieur, of Cartouche’s
last robbery. He^has really surpassed himself in
the dariag and idhed coartesy of this new o^nce.
’Tis strange bow^that man can civilize even a
crime!’
* ‘Yes.’ replied the stranger ' bis robbery is truly
Parisian. No other city could appreciate the polite­ness
and bonhonmetie he infuses into his exploits.
Still, I im ^ n e that his fame has hardly travelled
out of Paris.’
* Permit me to correct you. It was in Compefgne
thht I fiist heard of this prince of robbers, and I un­derstand
that even now his biography, as. far as it
can be ascertained, is prepftring for the press. The
autlinr has truly a hard task, if he would follow his
hero where the police have never been able to pen­etrate.
Cartouche should pen his autobiography—
by report, his talents a r f not confined to stealing.’
The stranger smile<l and drew nwrer, with a
air. ‘ A true Parisian,* thought I, ‘ to be
proud of a robber’s reputation, because both of them
happen to belong, to tlie same cityl’ Our conver­sation
flowed very agreeably''for an hour, until I left
the cafe and returned to my hotel.
‘ i t was late, and for some time- the tumult of my
tbojights kept me from sleep. At length, however,
it came deep and heavy. Sliortly before morning,
at an hour when slumber is deadened into stupor, 1
was suddenly aroused by a strong grasp upon my
arms, and a voice speaking in a very calm, coQver-sational
tone:—
“Will Monsieur listen for a moment ?’
‘ Tlieir forms were indi«mct,-bnt I instantly re­cognized
my fnend of the caft in the speaker, and
saw that the one whose grasp was upon me watt a
huge, brawny rufiian. My physical strength, as
you know, is anything but contemptible, and a vio­lent
springsent Uie latter spinning across the room;
Jjtrt before I could fuHy rise, the pther threrw his
arnu aniund roe, and tlie muscle, which appeared
so light, clasped me in like spnngs of steeL He
easily hekl me perfectly motionless, aAd at the same
time directed bis comrade to withdraw with the
money, as he wished a private conversation with
the gentlemiuu As the villain disappeared from
tbe window, I heard the dash of coib, and bade
adieu to my sixty thousand fiwics. My friend
took up the conversation.
‘ *As I was about to remark, Monsieur, when
your jirdent impulses stimulated me to meet your
embrace, I have merely called to return you my
thanks for the very fevorable opinion you were
pleased to express of my jjoor* exploits. The im­pression
jr'bu made upon me was decidedly fevor­able.
The firiendship of a fine young man, fresh
from Compeigne,add apparently wealthy, in. what
the world considers happiness was really worthy
t£ some exertion to secure. But you were in the
midst of temptation, and with every means of,gra-tifying
yourselA^thiscourae would inevitably ruin
you. In oor contersatk>iv you showed a high «id
sagacious mind. In what way coukt I best serve
a young man of such amiable q u a k e s I My fiHiend
I resolved at once on the true course—I removed
the tem ^ tio n—I have borrowed jrourtaoney. You
jore sow poor, and. must tax your eneigies to live.
B a t INth your talents you cannot feil, and if you
lillow tM to take the liberty, I would ad^se
you to b*c«MmTirfTOC«ta,aiid th«* yo« may^tpa^
ify yourself for the profession, I hftve reinitteiKve
thousain^clhincs from the loan. HereCffler, when
you have arrived to eminence, through yoiir owii
means, you may repay if you insist updn’k, or if
you are then dissatisfied with this proof of my
friendship;! will return the full amount I have bor­rowed.’
‘ ‘Monsiem- Cartouche,’—I spoke cooliy, fSr the
robber’s singular speech ahdJils easy'manner made
m« as audacious as himself—‘depend upon it, I am
not insensible to your kindness. I accept the libe­ral
oflTer, for really your arguments are too forcible
to be- withstoud. But allow me to say, that you
should not have called upon me thus uaexpectediy
without a formal introduction, or leaving your c^rd
at least. You hare committ»d a breach of etiquette!’
“ 6 f that, my friend, I was never guilty. My
card you will find on your dressing table with the
. five tliOdsand francs.’ *
‘ ‘It does not indiaite your I'esideoi^i presume.
Still I shall endeavor to return your*H$!t It would
be unpardonable in me to neglect the' acquaintance
of one so polite as niy friend Cartoucht’
“ Receive my thanks, M o n ^ b r. Should you
ever honor me with a friendly call, depend upon it,
the full amount of this loan shall be repaid. * Au '
revoir' «
‘ I sprang to the window, but lie had already dis-ap^^
red. A long rope was festened inside, but
how they had contrived to secui^ it \v«s a mystery
ITOorewhat at. fault. But k^ping^ in
rUiat the sound audibly eiseendei^ l
|<^e%ner walls of the rdoms,, and then
? Ijassagfe outside. A l ly in g fop^ll ne-t
o f a^ partition^*' the ropB«#r\^ere
a half f«et less in, breadth - ^ n ‘ fcejt'
ire been. There was evideii^ a lioHtm'
inced of #3%
i<(fcight lit-aiid
jijst-caso
^lf it
'een, and I >vas fully^^
irv in p th fit^ ligh
iwed by softie huh,
with Ihfl fioor.
could seAothing, which would
had beee^nawed from a dark pnssa^, and the
|iib t wo|i|d most certainly have-pasl^d, had- there
b e ^ noiimee between the .soom% After procur­ing
the |tecessary ifistrmrientfi,' f"sa\ve8 small
square eiktranre, and stepping ^iro(^!y‘ ii, found
inyseUI as I had expected, jammed i»i> in close
darknes^ The stairwsy'was steep; and .very nar-irning
sidewise, 1 moved upword;but on-leagaigst
a barrel door under the rqof|
springs, whicK defied all niy efIblKs.—
I entered my' room, for proper arms,
losencss of the ;tir and the wish for con-cealnien|
inamle8tcd in the constructim of the p^s-sa.
ge, tc%etlier with the evident i-clation of the
whole a||venture to niy own interests, had really
made rcsoKe to venture no farther without.
w c a p o n |r of defrnce. Armed.w'kti a brace of pis­tols,
I ^ c e n d e d until the stairs suddenly ended
into it^^iji more, n ow ^ ’ljs usSaei.
to me, until 1 was afterwards more fully initiated | for four'|r ^ve feet straight dow^n, and then struck
into the expert daring of a Parisian robber. I could
do nothing to recover the money at once, and ac­cordingly
resumed my place in bed, first noticing
that on thedrssslngfetable lay a rd l of notes and a
plain card, on which was engraved simply, “ C a r -
TOtJCHE—A t home." It m ay well bo imagined
that I slept no moi’e thal night. If my exertions to
recover the money should prove vain, as I supposed
they would, what would be my best course ? Plain­ly,
that which the rpbber himself had advised. A
strong inducement, thoiigh dimly defined in my
plans, was the hope that good fortune might brir^
me into collision with him in my professional ca-.
pacity. Tlie idea, of which I was then hardly con­scious,
was afterwards realized. Yet, a la s! for the
strength of hun\an determinations, when Cartouche
was tried for his life—I defended him.
' My first action was to go to ^ e cbief^f police,
and receive from him a very polite answer, tliat
without farther particulars, nothing coiild be done.
My second was to' engage a cheap room in an ob­scure
part of the dty, ptirchase a scanty library,
enter my name, and bend myself down for diving
in tlie law. For more than a year, my life was mo­notonous—
a mere exist^ence as to the body, but
the intense labor of tliat year proved of iacalcalable
advantage to my mind. - 1 luHi.but one exp«tsive<
pleasure. The remembrance of her, whose prandly
mournful spirit I fended I had mastered at the the.
atre, was always with me, but the living reality I
could never find. At length, my useless visits to
the theatre were discontinued. You may jvell im­agine
that my Uste rardy led me into a cafe.
‘Tl’vis dull life was broken as suddenly as it had
been assumed. The building in which I lived au
Iroisem, was large and irregular, and had formerly
been used as a hotel, but the workings of time, and
the removal o f fashion from that quarter of the dty,
had left it merely a cheap lodging-house for a swarm
of poor clerks, students, and authors. •
‘ One night, long after the hour of retiring, I was
suddenly waked by a tramping of sl^eral men out­side.
It soon ended in a fa[int, deadened sound, as
if they had entered the building Jus t at that mo­ment,
when perfect stillness reigned, I experienced
a sensation—I had often heard such described, and
as often ridiculed it—a strange and painful feeling
of constraint, as if in the utter darkness round me.
was crouched the form of a living man, ])erhaps an
assassin, unseen, within striking distance of my de­fenceless
pei-son. Then my hearing was sharpen­ed,
and, after a moment of fearful silence, I heard
distinctly the low breathing of another within a foot
of my Ijead. I t was only a single respiration, and
1. waited an instant,—then it came again to my ear,
but this time higher up tlian before, and deadened
by a barrier. My first idea was that some one in
the next room was very near me, but with the dis­tinct
recollection tliat the sound had ascended, a
nameless fear impelled me, and I leaped &irly into
the middle of the room. It was in time to receive
a party of the gen d'armes, headed by an officer.
‘ *Ha I this is not the man,^ exclaimed hr, a&
they burst in the door; " still, we muM search the
room.”
‘ ‘Whom do you seek ?’ I enqufred.
' ‘One of Cartouche’s band. We tracked him
to this building, but lie may escape us here.’
* ‘ r is not, then Cartouche himself V '
‘ ‘Parbleu I no. Do you tliink he can ever be
canght? This is only one of hie men. Sorry to
disturb Monsiemr, but public justice required it.—
Come, we shall find nlHhinghere.’
‘ After they had retired, I blamed m3»elf some­what
for noTinformingHhem of what I had heard
but their mention of Cartouche had fired me with
a sudden id:a to examine whether this sound had
any-connection with his movements, and i f so, to
return his virit in person: It was the hot-brain no-tioii
of a young nian, and such as I never should
have admitted, bad it not been for tjie almost chiv­alrous
method of the robbery, and the roUier’s sin­gular
renAarksafteir its perpetration. Thus arose
a ridiculous idea, to be as chivalrous as himself—
to penetrate even into his den, and openly demand
restitutioii according to his promise I Still, much
good sense Wm mingled in my plan. By ventur
ing alone, I might easily discover the necessary lo-cahtiea,
whereas, if the police attended in any
force, the fanw of Cartouche f6r<sagact(y, left me
l i t t l e o f suiprising an entrance.^
‘‘^ i i y in the next morning, I yiuted the ad­joining
r<kna. I t was preeiMly Ilkamy aiid
off towards the opfwsite side of the building, but
still do\i;hward, and in dense darkness. My de­scent
m |st have been full forty feet before I step­ped
upifta level floor of earth, and stood motion­less
a t liearing voices b ym ^ 's id e . T h e first had
the finely-swelling tones of Cartouche—the other
was sofl.and low, ‘ so excellent fn woman.’
“ Didionorable Parbleo; you have read o f chlv-ali-
y in Vain. The Enights errant who sought to
achieve great good by little wrongs—that glorious
English outlaw, Robin Hood, whose ^ame was
whispered in London, and blessed in merry Sher­wood—
Du Val, the daring and chivalrous—what
were they all but chiefs in a great and honorable
profession 1 With them slumbered tlie spirit of
chivalry and 4he equal dlstiubution of gootl—the
mean thief and common robber then disgraced out
profes«on, until I arose and placed it on its ancient
position. The robber’s ru^ie and knotty club I pol­ished,
I gilded, and now'wield it, in »»y hands—a
sceptre.’
‘ ‘But ftHlVs hard and fearful as before. I f the
opinion of m ^kind will not influence you, at least
respect your own consdence. Ask within, »'here
is my right—how terrible has been my w ro n ^ ’
I girl, iiqw as before, ^ a t if you strip
the law frohi right, the world will call it wrong,-^
take the penalty from wrong, and the Workl will
call it right. Public opinion reasons by rules, and
disregards exceptions, ^To save a poor, man from
the death of a b e ^ , by taking a litde gold from the
rich, who can well sfiare it, is wrong,—to trarsfer
the little priyierty of the needy by some.quirk in
law to the coffers ef the wealthy, is right. So the
world will teH you. 1 am the enemy of Fortune.
Where her blindness has given all to one and noth-ing
to another,i equalize the blessings. When 1
see before me a sick traveller through the desert,
athirst, I bring him water from the nearest sjiring.’
‘ ‘You offw him drink fnm a yioisonous cup !—
•Father, I can avail nothing—let the remembrance
of my dead^mother sp^ak to you. This was her
bridal hall—she had lived in a lordly castle. The
associates of her husband were robbers, of herself
robbers' mistresses—the blood of her house, you
have told me, flowed for centuries, impdled by hon­orable
hearts, untaint^ by pleljeiii mingling. I,
her child, received, my education hei-e-in this vile
place; I go hence by'stealih; I return hitlier jn
sorrow, for I see joys that I may not^ share. Here
I shafl die. These w'ords are not for myself my
father. Where you live, there will I : but how can
you look upon these'things so coSlly, linked as
they are, with the past? My mother loved you
here;—how much happier would both have been,
if you liad daimed your proper place; an honor to
your name I’
“Cease! Your mother never spoke thus—noj'not
in words. Listen, now, to what you have never
heard before—listen to the cruel necessity that
drove me to my profession. We loved each oth-
^ r—we were both younj;, of noble-birth, and bnp-py.
Upon my estate was a poor girl, who had
yielded lierselfto the dissolute pleasures of a neigh­boring
baron. She strove to emend* her life, and I
supported her in the p u rp o ^ He came to me,
boiling 'with fury, and demanded her again; I
withstood him*—he moved his hand towards his
sword, and I struck him down. We were stand­ing
on the bank of a stream, and the bk>w hurled
him backward into the water, which eddied swiftly
upon the edge of a mill dam. He -was drawn in­to
the current, and cast upon the ponderous -whirl­ing
wheel. Then FVas arraigned for manslaugh­ter,
and condemned to Bi<%tre for life. But I e»
caped, and, appearing at the dead of night before
my bdrothed, required her to fulfil or revoke her
promise. She hesitated not a moment—noble wo­man
!—but accompanied me to the gloomy altar.
W hat then could I do, proscribed by law, and con­sumed
by fire* that an unjust world had kindled,
but scatter burning brands upon the bosom of that
same heartless world ? 1 should have been a mer­ciless
and blood drunken pirate, if the sweet influ­ences
of your mother had not bound me to earth.
My course is higher. I f I do wrong, it is thet
good JMay come—a good to which ihe w r o n g shall
be but a shadow in noon day. When sh^ left me
here below, you inlierited her position. Mydaugh-fer,
you have saved me from much crhne. But,
belicTe me, I can no longer consent to your self^
sacrificafor my *al»t You will accept tl» pro­posal
I ha#e ofieri madi-^^*i®ptf'1frt!^^this place,
and enter lj|b as-li«eiQffles-a’i<e^^'4a'^6ter, w^l-thy,.
beautiful and'.good. i^metimes F will
visj^ you.Y wheflc )jlbn<»: s s ^ o f.^ tic e
are faitin'g pe, I wife go a'^jdle!^ a teison from you
TU'liereby to live.’- ; ^
I remiiil^ here m4lhyi^ pcoidt^
befojetlley^rid-ii*r^ .:
4 Tt? tlie\M!i^Ai,’ interaiptv^Gartoi|c^^
•His quick p|ep flipd a fjollow sound,
l^ e lli|* c # ^ t||r6Bgh the silence a law s i|^ ,
aikl^the ;^fiiint dve^piii^^of tears; I t weuid have
been itei^itege fo have gont fiirther, and-1 returned
’ulfciscovered-from my f ir s t'tis it to th e ^ u s e of
Cartouche^
. ‘ One iking perplexed me%P%rst^ TlVe fobber
had appeared K^rcely thirty at ttte Oi^e and in my
'room; here was tlie same man, tlie futher orone
who approncljed'ft'nw perhaps had arrived at wo­manhood.
*I j&uld accpum for the mystery only
by what afterward* proved true; - tlie almost mar-ve]/
ous skill in -counterfeiting difTcrent ages, which
is po8 9 «sed-by the accomplished robbers 6 f Paris.
At the lilpe, liowpver, I thoiigbt little of this. Her
voice followed we,and echoed around my heart in
tones tliat quivei’ed like trembling mdted s ilw .—
I t strangely moved me from the dream of hopeless
constancy ia which I bad indulged fVom the night
when I firsifcaw the unknown object of my vis-visions.
Truly my heart was doubly possessed.
Within it was the sweet memory of one whom
nothing could cause me to forget; around it hover­ed
the lofty spirit of another, the daughter of a rob­ber
! = Aud with the word, came. a serious conside­r
a t i o n of my. future course. I was determined to
follow tbe adventure, and equally determined npt
to exerut e my original plan pf jentering the hiding
place of Cartouche, with a body of police, and
dragging him foith to justice. T l ^ woul I iuevi
tably disco«w tlie existenqe of hi^i diiughter, and
blast her name in the world. I- shrank from the
thought, and^hough the life of Cartouche himself
wasglaringly c rin ^ a l, I ,co«ld-not avoid a genu­ine
reluctance towaid*s deilivering to death one who
had suffered so much from his race, and even then
had softened trime with humanity. The reasoning
of his defence was evidently superfitial, for h,e ar­gued
from peculiar circumstances which happened
to fall upon him, ever overlooking tl«e great princi­ples
back of all, which makes justice and right the
same in nature.
My final plan promised success in my original
object, and at the same time prevented the necessi­ty
of dragging Cartouche to the scaffold—perhaps
miglit release his daughter from her shameful bon-^.
dage. The last thought canie dimly ifi the visions
of hope, and influenced^me as a hidden incentive
rathes than definite expectation. ittlSermined to
select a few friends, on whose courage » d wcTesy
I could rely, and enterir% with them -weH-armed,
\vrest his booty fidm the robber. First, however,
some other entrance was to be foiind, for the' secret
stairs would only lead into what l f3 |tto be a sanc­tuary—
the refuge of a young arid lovely devotee,
surrounded Ly hardened criminals. I would pro­fane
it by no stranger’s step.
‘ For hours I lingered around the building, and
even tlie whole square, but my most diligent seardi
was iktefly fruitkss; a t this day,I know not the
proper entrance to the place. At last, for very
weariness, I gave up the search, and resolved, since
no ort.er nietlicd couldbei found, toremove the ioor
which lay directly over tlie centre of the whole,
and force a way with my compailions. It was ea­sy
to find these. I procured half a dozen well-arm­ed
friends, young students at law, always ripe for
any adventure, told them as much of 'my design as
wa^ necessary, and having pledged ih»*m to .^ resy ,
waited for the appointed time. At ten in tbe«ven-ing
precisely, we assembled inajowerj-oam of the
br.ildk)g. This I,hod select^ a§ tha. proper place
for descent, judging from the echoes a f tlie voices
I had heard, that it was suffidently fitr fivm the
room nf the daughter , o f Cartouche, lo avoid the
necessity of discovering her retreat. Wirh the u t­most
silence possible, we reinoyed jtiro. or ^hree
boardu^from the £loor, and. lowered a :lantern into
the dark cdUieneatb. I t wa» a damp; narrow pas­sage,
about . feet wide, and tea in' depth. We
easily dropped'into it, one by one, but had scarcdy
all reached the bottom, before a door opened, a little
further on, and through it peeped for a second, a
luisliy head, surmounting a pair of quick eyes that
glanced over our little band, and instantly disap­peared.
We rushed forward through the door, and
found ourselves in a small square tell, with a top so
low that we bent our heads in entering. Thedoor
at the farther end was securely festened, and at the
same moment, that^hrouglj which we had |ust
come, was dashed'to, and locked witli»a triumph­ant
jingling of keys. We we were fairly eiHfrap-ped.
We must blow the door open,’ I exdaimed,
creeping forwards with a cocked pistol.
‘ Fhre at your peril!’ cried a voice above us.
‘ W e bent back our heads, and l^ked up a» wdl
as the roof would allow. It was*pier“ ^
numerable holes, and through eight or ten of^ them
the dark muzzles of pistols looked grimly upon us.
Before we could recover from our stupid astonish­m
e n t , t h e y disappeared, and a flood of water came
pouring, gurgling down uppn our uptorned iaces.
‘Cover your pistols!-’was the c ry.bt^ it was too
late—they were already wet and ciHnjrietdy un­serviceable.
Then we crouched under tfaatpiti\m
torrent, but notin silence The mocking|^ laugh
t e r o v e r us was beard aboT* our i^utterfi' cag|K
and choking groaiia. . This dtendiing
kept up fuU firan^htiia, and then a door bc^Midf
wUs thnw'n <^hy find ft salittad n .
‘Coiia jfortfiiyt
‘ ’Wiilt%pij^dsippiHc, waraibed oitt. wiifa impo­tent
ra g ^ ''^ 4 i> a b la ' row of m e^ with cockad
pistc^s,b)6 ckedif^4 be way^and wa sfirang badi
against ihe.^iar jusCaf t | d o r d opos paoacd
moH aril siAs. We wer». coamandad io deliver
o«r weapons, «id-seeing thaf^-ao ehoica was lef^
H^urrtndewd tltanin silence. Oac f a a ^ wara- ■
tied, and thus secured^we w M k d lbnmn|i^ran{a
of ^oomy apastments, iD ^o n e that was ^ a p
brightness even qplsndid. Cttftooca
there, evidently awaiting us. I took a singie step
forwnr^ki address h in ^ u t he in te r ru p t aie-a
mockiflg salutstion»
. ‘ ‘Welcome, gentlemen—^we have been expectil^
you. My friends have ondoabtedly received jd o t"
with a proper grating, and as-it is now lare, ytW
may wish to retire.’ He turned to his band>^ '
Take the six who laM entered, and-seritre them Itt
my ** strong box.” Perhaps they wiH find a trea­sure
there. H a ! who b<whd hands of tfali
gentlemanT
* A brawny ruffian, lookii^ n e s t snsptrioaa^^
l ^ the same who bad accompanied the A k T ttk
my room the year before, stepped forward aad eftH
the cord.
“ Dog !” cried C a r to a e a ||||||^ him
single Wow. “ I f c a ^ ^ S ly command
leave him unfkttered ? He is a former firiend, UK
whom I bwe much. Away with yoo.’*
' The man arosc^ mattering and left tbfr roonfc
with his fellows.
‘ We were now alone. The robber tnmed^ a«j^
coolljrenquired, fo what cinnimstance iiw ‘
debted for the honor of my visit, WWi eqnal eotrfi'
ness I presented his own card, pointing to the
words, ‘ Ca r to vc u x— At He seizedt
my hand.
“ Morbleu ! You shall be one o f u& Only, if
you embrace the profession, you must npt
around so openly iw you have this aftienioorr,1aeit>^
ly telling every one that you w m in search tit
something. Yes, you shaR recurve your fflly thot^
sand francs again. With good trahihig,3rour naU
ur:4genius for onr employment will ratse- you to»
eminence. AhT too prOud'indeed ! T h ^
Monsieur, why did you return my call V.
‘ *I canSB on your own invitation, as that caid
will tt-ir>'ou. I denriand the money you promised'
me—I have' performed tiie condition.*
“ Rash, ungrateful -youth,' replied CarftniebeA
moralizing. ‘ Is it thu s'th at you tceat your best
friends ? Consider a moment. Had I aot tafceo
your money, h would, ere this, have been half dh<<^
sipated, and the remnant now u ig » f you down
poverty. How is it now 7 Tlie temptation
removed—you took my adviec^ and have I
not useless in soci^y. 1 did this, and you un-^
gnitefni man, you blame me !’'
“ This is'mnmmit^ hypocrisy,’ said I , imyatisntg-ly.
‘You transferred niy temptation to yourseK—^
You woubi^starve a man U ^ v e him from saieidssi
Gratitude, fi)rsooth.’
‘ ‘Had you but e0 |jK»k)ne,’ continued he, withoa^
noticing my w o rd s^ l^ ^ en with a single eoispaa-ion,
as I did, and demaided it foiriy, t would lift*#
taken pleasure in fiilfilltng my promise, and reward-^
ing one, in whom I couM reeognize my eqwd il»
magnanimity. Yomig man, you wouh) safefy fm s t
in the honor of Cartouche. But* you vldated A #
taci t condition of my promise; you came here witb
an arnird band, hoping to surprise the robber itt
his home, and wrest bis booty away by the strong'
arm. Your folly is only equal to your audadty^.
But coins, mjr boy, I owe yon no ill-wUL Yoti.
have shown great (faring, though not wdl tempered
Once more,,I renew my offer—jota ua aad yotf
shall lead the l»nd, after my death, wbw6 some
cident may caus^at any time, for life is trandtory*
Or, if you refuse, it is a t your owa peri^ Tous
life shall be spared of coursejl>ut there must Bssorat
penalty for your burgrarioos attempt—say a week’s '
imprisonment. You refuse f Ck)od i^ ^ t , Mbif
sieur—I will see you to-monow/
' H e left the room, and sliortfy after, one of tlw
band cfnie to conduct me to> ley cell. I Jwi
taken care to mark the d if i^ n t positioas a t, tlif
rooms and passages, for it may well be imafiiMd,
tin t my jntentjon was to escape,that very nifbt by
means of the siair-way. Cartouche was endentl^
ignorant that I knew of its existence. H ow an r
lenient his treatment of myself under the drewnstan.
res, and however reluctant to lay open tbe isftga
of his daughter, the sitoation of my fnends^ ^ w a
into danger on my ac«wnt,left me nocboiee. I f I
could succeed in escaping, my action would bo to
bring down a body of police tbrqugh ihs secret en­trance,
and rescue my copmanions. I t a v s a ttaw
when compassionor love mustgive way to boast.
But befoi« this codd be done, my course tajr thro'
the very chamber o f the girl,and I wouki be oblig­ed
to make her an accomplice m tbe escape of !isr
fetherJs prisoner. Or, if she could bo induced tp
place h e r s e l f under my protection, and mingle bna-orably
with the worM, tbe whde adventura woal4
terminau in. an ufiexpecte«l beneft. I waited aboat
three hours, until the faintest sounds w«m hoalfs^
before I a tt^ p tc d to^ forced the door.
‘ Tbe instrunienu with whieh an entrance ba4
been cut into the secset painage, were stiB uponaqr
person,and ihadat^^udc easy. I stepped intp.UiB
•leci-et wal]^ and lcae[Hl^|, cwefuliy in mind the va-
I'ious positions befine noUced^ proceeded soine di»>
taiKc in the darkness, but on turaing^a comer, was
starred by the sudden appearance of the very roll^
ber who W been punched so summarily by Car­touche,
for bind ing ray'anas. Carrying a lainp in
hifhand, Iw moved, luckily for me, straight onward
n the very direction I was to foUow. Stealtb^||^
•rept aftrar him, thinking a t Uie moment only (
langer to soine one ; for the man’s visag^-i
vealed by his lamp, wasr iiifiamed
I dr«W||Mife in his right himd, I
’lim.- * W a ^ now reached tbs ]
ailMia to lien iw tbs biddsa

W, F. & G. !!• BALDWIN, Proprieters.
=1^
T w r i S - ^ 1 * 2 | F e i f ^ u m i i .
VOL. I. LITCHFIELD,. (COT.) JpBRUiLRY 24, 1848. .N0.85
I t a n S l i i l l L l L A ^ V
Fr»m the FhUadelphia Sbtiurdof Courier.
EETUBNIN6 THB CALL;
. O r , « T l a l t t o C a f t o v d M . *
B7 TH.IL. BSS1TGI.X.
p t f friwid, Henri Doeot, md his wtte, w m
l an u d tor w di «dier. B«th wars band.
mtmm, m k and happy, mad it owMtAiy m
Wang* that they ■ hauld Kre Part* so cnttrriy^
«la«C a i they were, fron the world. 1 wmin.
tinutely aequaiated with Ducot, and kneir
Itoaved to cxtBt only with her husband. Yet it
iMUat hava been theii^ own choice, for they were
warm ’affections and a«ery quality
MMUpdty induces friendshfp; but this fact
only iuUed M the mystery which was arouad them
None IcBSW the AmUy o t EstsU* Daeat, yet tbe
marriage coutd hardly ha«« been a menaUinnce, for
Ihen Henri was a poor studsnt a t law and a straa-jger
in Paris. But mboc that time, he fae di-awn
from him, until I mentioned tlie exeiuiion I had
just wiuiessed. His courttenance instantly assu-tned
an appearance of anguish, and lie enquired, in
St saddened tone, how Cartouche had borne himself
^through the awful scetie.
*'Wdl aiid nobly,’ I replied. ‘ He mnde a short
address to tlie ffiectators in defence of his coursc of
Jift, ^ n t i i ig out somewliat proudly, as it seemed
>o me, wherein be dififered from others of lus pro-
Cwon, and concluding with the singular remark,
that but two had ever existed worthy tn be ranked
with himself, and that the woHd shoold congratu­late
itself on the existence of three such spirits as
Robin Hood^ Du Yal, and Cartouche. And then
lie died. You s e ^ strangely interested—I know
that a t the trial you appeared as his advocate but
rertaiuly you must have powerfully identified your­self
with your client, as the legal ^ i o n runs, to
i td sud) sympathy fur a mere robber. Yet, I must
confess, Cartouche has added refinement to his pro-fessbn.’
Ducot made no r eply, and finding that 1 could
not banish his gloomy mood, I rose to take my
leave^ He started up and accompanied me to the
dftor.
‘ You must excuse my silence to-nif^ht, my friend.
Te^morrow we le.
d ^ a tio n , such as one might feel toward a rude
gazer, but a iqMlling:, instantly surceeded. by tlie
mute and lofiy enquiry,—who and wliat is he,dar-ing
to pry into tlie knowledge of^iy sorrow ? But
it was not the usual sense of grief, for that is still
and vetiring:—it was tliaaorrow of shame,—uot fur
hersdf, or she would shrink, but tin consciousness
of soms degradation in her unavoidable manner of
life, diat she wmild wiah to feel alone, and th««fore
hold^hersslf .akwf/rora all. Yet being akme, there
was a ntcessary yearning for sympathy, and an
unconscious desire to test every one who appeared
to be interested in her. This conclusion came in*
stantaiieously, and banishing every thought of what
could be her peculiar condition as something be­yond
conjecture, I contented myself with drinking
in deeply admiration, with its natural result—^love.
For love succeeds the otiier as truly as the delicious
intoxicating wine follows the light and momentary
foam. Only once I looked towards the stnge, and
when my eyes returned home, she was gone.
* I wandered forth, gloomy and dejected^ My In­tention
had been to sup at a cafe aAer the play, and
thitlier my stepa-unconsciously turned. The L-oom
was filled with the usual miscellaneous company,
but I heeded them not. I sat down in a retired
cqrner and discussed ray wine and thought alone.
Shortly afterwards, a stranger entered and sat by
my side, whose appearance instantly drew my
whole attention towards him. Yet there was^ no­thing
strikingly singukir in any of his features^lbut
their combination at («ce made him an (^ject of
curious study. His frame was slight, yet perfectly
and powerfully made; his lips were thinly and
sharply cut, but the chief expression of the man lay
in wlMit be termed his polite eye. Had he been
twenty y«‘ars older, I should have thought him a
di^tnguisbed soldier, clad , in citiBea dress, and po
Itfdied by long interoourae with the workl; but he
seemed sca«:ely thirty, and of an ease-loving dis-
‘position, which would hardly betake itself to arms.
I commenced the conversation by handing him my
paper with a word or two on the topic of the day.
There is an account, Monsieur, of Cartouche’s
last robbery. He^has really surpassed himself in
the dariag and idhed coartesy of this new o^nce.
’Tis strange bow^that man can civilize even a
crime!’
* ‘Yes.’ replied the stranger ' bis robbery is truly
Parisian. No other city could appreciate the polite­ness
and bonhonmetie he infuses into his exploits.
Still, I im ^ n e that his fame has hardly travelled
out of Paris.’
* Permit me to correct you. It was in Compefgne
thht I fiist heard of this prince of robbers, and I un­derstand
that even now his biography, as. far as it
can be ascertained, is prepftring for the press. The
autlinr has truly a hard task, if he would follow his
hero where the police have never been able to pen­etrate.
Cartouche should pen his autobiography—
by report, his talents a r f not confined to stealing.’
The stranger smileiv you showed a high «id
sagacious mind. In what way coukt I best serve
a young man of such amiable q u a k e s I My fiHiend
I resolved at once on the true course—I removed
the tem ^ tio n—I have borrowed jrourtaoney. You
jore sow poor, and. must tax your eneigies to live.
B a t INth your talents you cannot feil, and if you
lillow tM to take the liberty, I would ad^se
you to b*c«MmTirfTOC«ta,aiid th«* yo« may^tpa^
ify yourself for the profession, I hftve reinitteiKve
thousain^clhincs from the loan. HereCffler, when
you have arrived to eminence, through yoiir owii
means, you may repay if you insist updn’k, or if
you are then dissatisfied with this proof of my
friendship;! will return the full amount I have bor­rowed.’
‘ ‘Monsiem- Cartouche,’—I spoke cooliy, fSr the
robber’s singular speech ahdJils easy'manner made
m« as audacious as himself—‘depend upon it, I am
not insensible to your kindness. I accept the libe­ral
oflTer, for really your arguments are too forcible
to be- withstoud. But allow me to say, that you
should not have called upon me thus uaexpectediy
without a formal introduction, or leaving your c^rd
at least. You hare committ»d a breach of etiquette!’
“ 6 f that, my friend, I was never guilty. My
card you will find on your dressing table with the
. five tliOdsand francs.’ *
‘ ‘It does not indiaite your I'esideoi^i presume.
Still I shall endeavor to return your*H$!t It would
be unpardonable in me to neglect the' acquaintance
of one so polite as niy friend Cartoucht’
“ Receive my thanks, M o n ^ b r. Should you
ever honor me with a friendly call, depend upon it,
the full amount of this loan shall be repaid. * Au '
revoir' «
‘ I sprang to the window, but lie had already dis-ap^^
red. A long rope was festened inside, but
how they had contrived to secui^ it \v«s a mystery
ITOorewhat at. fault. But k^ping^ in
rUiat the sound audibly eiseendei^ l
|vas fully^^
irv in p th fit^ ligh
iwed by softie huh,
with Ihfl fioor.
could seAothing, which would
had beee^nawed from a dark pnssa^, and the
|iib t wo|i|d most certainly have-pasl^d, had- there
b e ^ noiimee between the .soom% After procur­ing
the |tecessary ifistrmrientfi,' f"sa\ve8 small
square eiktranre, and stepping ^iro(^!y‘ ii, found
inyseUI as I had expected, jammed i»i> in close
darknes^ The stairwsy'was steep; and .very nar-irning
sidewise, 1 moved upword;but on-leagaigst
a barrel door under the rqof|
springs, whicK defied all niy efIblKs.—
I entered my' room, for proper arms,
losencss of the ;tir and the wish for con-cealnien|
inamle8tcd in the constructim of the p^s-sa.
ge, tc%etlier with the evident i-clation of the
whole a||venture to niy own interests, had really
made rcsoKe to venture no farther without.
w c a p o n |r of defrnce. Armed.w'kti a brace of pis­tols,
I ^ c e n d e d until the stairs suddenly ended
into it^^iji more, n ow ^ ’ljs usSaei.
to me, until 1 was afterwards more fully initiated | for four'|r ^ve feet straight dow^n, and then struck
into the expert daring of a Parisian robber. I could
do nothing to recover the money at once, and ac­cordingly
resumed my place in bed, first noticing
that on thedrssslngfetable lay a rd l of notes and a
plain card, on which was engraved simply, “ C a r -
TOtJCHE—A t home." It m ay well bo imagined
that I slept no moi’e thal night. If my exertions to
recover the money should prove vain, as I supposed
they would, what would be my best course ? Plain­ly,
that which the rpbber himself had advised. A
strong inducement, thoiigh dimly defined in my
plans, was the hope that good fortune might brir^
me into collision with him in my professional ca-.
pacity. Tlie idea, of which I was then hardly con­scious,
was afterwards realized. Yet, a la s! for the
strength of hun\an determinations, when Cartouche
was tried for his life—I defended him.
' My first action was to go to ^ e cbief^f police,
and receive from him a very polite answer, tliat
without farther particulars, nothing coiild be done.
My second was to' engage a cheap room in an ob­scure
part of the dty, ptirchase a scanty library,
enter my name, and bend myself down for diving
in tlie law. For more than a year, my life was mo­notonous—
a mere exist^ence as to the body, but
the intense labor of tliat year proved of iacalcalable
advantage to my mind. - 1 luHi.but one exp«tsive<
pleasure. The remembrance of her, whose prandly
mournful spirit I fended I had mastered at the the.
atre, was always with me, but the living reality I
could never find. At length, my useless visits to
the theatre were discontinued. You may jvell im­agine
that my Uste rardy led me into a cafe.
‘Tl’vis dull life was broken as suddenly as it had
been assumed. The building in which I lived au
Iroisem, was large and irregular, and had formerly
been used as a hotel, but the workings of time, and
the removal o f fashion from that quarter of the dty,
had left it merely a cheap lodging-house for a swarm
of poor clerks, students, and authors. •
‘ One night, long after the hour of retiring, I was
suddenly waked by a tramping of sl^eral men out­side.
It soon ended in a fa[int, deadened sound, as
if they had entered the building Jus t at that mo­ment,
when perfect stillness reigned, I experienced
a sensation—I had often heard such described, and
as often ridiculed it—a strange and painful feeling
of constraint, as if in the utter darkness round me.
was crouched the form of a living man, ])erhaps an
assassin, unseen, within striking distance of my de­fenceless
pei-son. Then my hearing was sharpen­ed,
and, after a moment of fearful silence, I heard
distinctly the low breathing of another within a foot
of my Ijead. I t was only a single respiration, and
1. waited an instant,—then it came again to my ear,
but this time higher up tlian before, and deadened
by a barrier. My first idea was that some one in
the next room was very near me, but with the dis­tinct
recollection tliat the sound had ascended, a
nameless fear impelled me, and I leaped &irly into
the middle of the room. It was in time to receive
a party of the gen d'armes, headed by an officer.
‘ *Ha I this is not the man,^ exclaimed hr, a&
they burst in the door; " still, we muM search the
room.”
‘ ‘Whom do you seek ?’ I enqufred.
' ‘One of Cartouche’s band. We tracked him
to this building, but lie may escape us here.’
* ‘ r is not, then Cartouche himself V '
‘ ‘Parbleu I no. Do you tliink he can ever be
canght? This is only one of hie men. Sorry to
disturb Monsiemr, but public justice required it.—
Come, we shall find nlHhinghere.’
‘ After they had retired, I blamed m3»elf some­what
for noTinformingHhem of what I had heard
but their mention of Cartouche had fired me with
a sudden id:a to examine whether this sound had
any-connection with his movements, and i f so, to
return his virit in person: It was the hot-brain no-tioii
of a young nian, and such as I never should
have admitted, bad it not been for tjie almost chiv­alrous
method of the robbery, and the roUier’s sin­gular
renAarksafteir its perpetration. Thus arose
a ridiculous idea, to be as chivalrous as himself—
to penetrate even into his den, and openly demand
restitutioii according to his promise I Still, much
good sense Wm mingled in my plan. By ventur
ing alone, I might easily discover the necessary lo-cahtiea,
whereas, if the police attended in any
force, the fanw of Cartouche f6rw hurled
him backward into the water, which eddied swiftly
upon the edge of a mill dam. He -was drawn in­to
the current, and cast upon the ponderous -whirl­ing
wheel. Then FVas arraigned for manslaugh­ter,
and condemned to Bi a b la ' row of m e^ with cockad
pistc^s,b)6 ckedif^4 be way^and wa sfirang badi
against ihe.^iar jusCaf t | d o r d opos paoacd
moH aril siAs. We wer». coamandad io deliver
o«r weapons, «id-seeing thaf^-ao ehoica was lef^
H^urrtndewd tltanin silence. Oac f a a ^ wara- ■
tied, and thus secured^we w M k d lbnmn|i^ran{a
of ^oomy apastments, iD ^o n e that was ^ a p
brightness even qplsndid. Cttftooca
there, evidently awaiting us. I took a singie step
forwnr^ki address h in ^ u t he in te r ru p t aie-a
mockiflg salutstion»
. ‘ ‘Welcome, gentlemen—^we have been expectil^
you. My friends have ondoabtedly received jd o t"
with a proper grating, and as-it is now lare, ytW
may wish to retire.’ He turned to his band>^ '
Take the six who laM entered, and-seritre them Itt
my ** strong box.” Perhaps they wiH find a trea­sure
there. H a ! who b^
ly telling every one that you w m in search tit
something. Yes, you shaR recurve your fflly thot^
sand francs again. With good trahihig,3rour naU
ur:4genius for onr employment will ratse- you to»
eminence. AhT too prOud'indeed ! T h ^
Monsieur, why did you return my call V.
‘ *I canSB on your own invitation, as that caid
will tt-ir>'ou. I denriand the money you promised'
me—I have' performed tiie condition.*
“ Rash, ungrateful -youth,' replied CarftniebeA
moralizing. ‘ Is it thu s'th at you tceat your best
friends ? Consider a moment. Had I aot tafceo
your money, h would, ere this, have been half dh<ut there must Bssorat
penalty for your burgrarioos attempt—say a week’s '
imprisonment. You refuse f Ck)od i^ ^ t , Mbif
sieur—I will see you to-monow/
' H e left the room, and sliortfy after, one of tlw
band cfnie to conduct me to> ley cell. I Jwi
taken care to mark the d if i^ n t positioas a t, tlif
rooms and passages, for it may well be imafiiMd,
tin t my jntentjon was to escape,that very nifbt by
means of the siair-way. Cartouche was endentl^
ignorant that I knew of its existence. H ow an r
lenient his treatment of myself under the drewnstan.
res, and however reluctant to lay open tbe isftga
of his daughter, the sitoation of my fnends^ ^ w a
into danger on my ac«wnt,left me nocboiee. I f I
could succeed in escaping, my action would bo to
bring down a body of police tbrqugh ihs secret en­trance,
and rescue my copmanions. I t a v s a ttaw
when compassionor love mustgive way to boast.
But befoi« this codd be done, my course tajr thro'
the very chamber o f the girl,and I wouki be oblig­ed
to make her an accomplice m tbe escape of !isr
fetherJs prisoner. Or, if she could bo induced tp
place h e r s e l f under my protection, and mingle bna-orably
with the worM, tbe whde adventura woal4
terminau in. an ufiexpecte«l beneft. I waited aboat
three hours, until the faintest sounds w«m hoalfs^
before I a tt^ p tc d to^ forced the door.
‘ Tbe instrunienu with whieh an entrance ba4
been cut into the secset painage, were stiB uponaqr
person,and ihadat^^udc easy. I stepped intp.UiB
•leci-et wal]^ and lcae[Hl^|, cwefuliy in mind the va-
I'ious positions befine noUced^ proceeded soine di»>
taiKc in the darkness, but on turaing^a comer, was
starred by the sudden appearance of the very roll^
ber who W been punched so summarily by Car­touche,
for bind ing ray'anas. Carrying a lainp in
hifhand, Iw moved, luckily for me, straight onward
n the very direction I was to foUow. Stealtb^||^
•rept aftrar him, thinking a t Uie moment only (
langer to soine one ; for the man’s visag^-i
vealed by his lamp, wasr iiifiamed
I dr«W||Mife in his right himd, I
’lim.- * W a ^ now reached tbs ]
ailMia to lien iw tbs biddsa